


The Squints in the Picnic

by Jhonnies



Series: Bones Revisited - Season 01 [16]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jhonnies/pseuds/Jhonnies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just supposed to be a nice, uneventful day. But of course it couldn't be that simple for the squint squad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Squints in the Picnic

**Author's Note:**

> Words in italic are Zack’s thoughts. Underlined words are Vincent’s thoughts. This takes place after S01E07 – The Man on Death Row. Enjoy!
> 
> Reviews are fuel for writing. (*Very Subtle Hint*)
> 
> The song used in this story is ‘Temple of Thought’ by Poets of the Fall.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Bones (or any of the characters). I also do not own Poets of the Fall or any of their songs.

Zack thought that there was no better way to wake up than with his lover kissing him awake. His toes curled up as a shiver coursed through him, making him arch his back. Booth’s mission of rocking his squint’s world was almost complete.

“Good morning to you too, Seeley.”

“Morning.” – He resumed his attack. – “Sleep well?”

“Yes. I always do when I sleep near you. I believe my subconscious has tied your scent to the feeling of security.”

“He’s smart. Just like the rest of you.”

Even though he fought very hard against it, the pinkish tint covered his cheeks. It was always the simplest of comments that affected Zack the most. He kept his head down, so that Booth wouldn’t see it. The FBI agent’s hand raised the squint’s face until soul gazed into soul.

“Uhm. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. It was all you.”

The tint darkened.

A buzz warned them that a message had arrived to Zack’s phone.

“As much as I enjoy lying here, I have to see what it is.”

Booth released him from his grasp, albeit a little unwilling. The squint picked up his phone from the nightstand before returning to his lover’s embrace.

“Whose is it?”

“Vince’s. ‘I apologize for interrupting whatever you were doing when this arrived, but I would like to know if you will accompany me to breakfast.’”

“That has to be the nicest text ever.”

“Would it be rude to leave you and go meet him?”

“Nah. We eat together almost every day. You should go. I think I’m going to do the same. Maybe Wendell is hungry.”

_Always, according to Vince._

The cell phone slipped from Zack’s grip.

“By the pricking of my thumbs…” – He mouthed, the words not lost on the agent.

“Everything alright?”

“I believe I’ve just had a gut feeling. And it wasn’t a good one.” – He paused before picking up the device. – “I don’t think I like having gut feelings.”

“Don’t dismiss it like Bones would. Those feelings saved my life more times than I can count.”

_I just hope it won’t be a matter of life and death._

Chills  
Chills come racing down my spine  
Like a storm on my skin

Zack met Vince outside of the diner. Brenda Lee, the waitress, waved them both to an empty table as soon as she saw her two ‘sugars’ talking.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“When you are curled up against a big FBI agent who loves you, it’s hard to have a bad night off sleep. How about you?”

“Exchange ‘FBI agent’ for ‘blond coworker’ and you’ll know.” – He grinned madly while holding the door open for his friend. – “Have I ever thanked you for introducing us?”

“Yes, literally hundreds of times.”

They sat at the table furthest from the door, with the counter to one side and the window to the other.

The blond woman walked to the table and smiled.

“What can I get you, Sugar Cube?”

“Sugar Cube?”

“You’re British just like the little thingies.”

“A slice of apple pie and a cup of mint tea, please.”

“What about you, Sugar Cane?” – At Zack’s look of complete confusion, she explained. – “Why, you’re skinny like them.”

“A slice of black cherry pie and a cup of coffee, please.”

“Coming right up, Sugars.”

While Zack was turned towards Brenda, Vince was facing the window. His eyes locked with someone else’s.

Someone he hoped never to see gain.

The man who’d shattered his heart.

Lance freaking Sweets.

He hid under the table.

“Vincent? What was it?”

“Lying, cheating backstabber just outside.” – He whispered harshly.

“I think he’s coming in…”

The Brit got up from the table and jumped over the counter, in a display that left Zack in mild shock.

“Sugar, you can’t be back here.”

“Please let me stay. I cannot let the guy who just got in see me.”

“Your ex?” – He nodded. – “Oh, Hun, of course you can stay. I’ll let you know when he leaves.”

“Thank you.”

With shaking hands  
I'll guide your sweet soul into mine  
Until I feel you within

Zack was usually against forming an opinion before meeting someone, but he opened an exception for the man who made his best friend cry for nights on end.

I saw the devastation on his face every day. I will not allow it to happen again.

He prepared himself to lie through his teeth, without showing any deception marks.

Meanwhile, the Brit was having something akin to an anxiety attack. He didn’t hyperventilate, but he kept muttering to himself what Zack told him over and over again.

“You is smart. You is kind. You is important.” – It was childish, talking like that. But it worked very well on him. – “Oh dear Lord.”

Please don’t find me.

And I know  
I know that it's all about understanding  
And I hid it inside

Lance Sweets was a tall, lean man. If he was strong like Zack had expected him to be, he was hiding his muscles in another dimension. He looked like the kind of guy who would run from trouble. Any form of trouble that presented itself. But he could tell from the way the psychologist walked towards him that underneath all that awkwardness, he was strong mentally.

_Probably what attracted him to psychology._

The brunt of his appearance reminded Zack of Vincent, which only managed to piss the squint off further.

When Sweets stopped, a few feet away from him, he could see his eyes. He could tell that the guy wanted to see Vince and apologize.

Oh well. It wasn't anyone's fault that his best friend wasn't ready for it yet. Maybe in the near future; but now, Zack needed to get Lance out of the diner as fast as possible. So he steeled himself and showed no emotion whatsoever.

“Uhm. Hi.”

“Hello. How can I help you?”

Cold as a sword left on the Siberian snow, his words surprised the psychologist. He decided to dial it down a bit.

“The guy who was sitting here. Do you know where he went?”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

_If you can’t win, make believe they’re insane._

_Who would’ve known that someday I would follow Emma’s advice?_

“Black hair, beautiful blue eyes, very nice British accent.”

“I never saw anyone like that.”

_This is going to come back to haunt me._

Brenda Lee showed up with his pie.

“So, Sugar, when is your big bad man coming in?” – She poured him coffee. – “Y’all are so cute together.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey, did you see the guy sitting here before?”

“No, sorry, Hun. Morning’s the busiest time ‘round here.”

He left with slumped shoulders.

“Thank you.”

“No need. That man made Cube jump the counter; I wasn’t going to let anyone find him.”

Your beautiful soul as it's crying for love  
To conquer the day slowly dawnin'  
I want you to know  
You're the heart of my temple of thought

Brenda Lee let Vince know that the threat was over. He returned to the table, this time sitting beside Zack. The American squint leaned on his friend, to offer some reassurance. He whispered three simple sentences.

“You is smart. You is kind. You is important.”

While remembering the book he and Vincent read together (The Help), he picked his friend’s pocket for the Brit’s cell phone. He sent a text to Wendell, requesting his help.

“I seriously thought I was through feeling like this.”

“A deep cut does not disappear without leaving scars. He cheated on you, with a girl no less, and that’s bound to hurt.”

“Not to mention he told me flat out that our relationship was a mistake.”

“I remember you telling me that.” – Vincent glanced down at his piece of pie and drink before launching into a mildly hysterical laughter. – “What is it?”

“Look. Apple pie and tea.”

Were Zack not aware of the symbolism between the American dessert, the English beverage and Vincent and Wendell, he would be concerned for his friend’s mental state.

They were still eating when Wendell burst in, followed by Booth. The All-American squint approached his lover carefully. Vincent just melted onto his touch.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How are you?”

“Better now. Thank you, Dell.”

“Not a problem.”

So when you're restless I will calm the ocean for you  
In your sorrow I will dry your tears  
When you need me I will be there, low beside you

“So, wanna tell me about it?”

“PTSD. My version of it, anyway.”

“Your ex?”

“Yes. I thought I was over it.”

But now I’m left thinking if you’ll leave too.

“The guy was a jerk to you. You’re allowed to get anxious if you see him.” – As if hearing Vincent’s thoughts, Wendell murmured. – “An idiot too. To let go of someone so perfect.”

They had unknowingly trapped Zack between them and the window, but the squint didn’t want to interrupt the couple, so he slipped under the table and crawled over to where his lover was waiting.

Their communication was mostly silent, both afraid of disturbing their friends. Even Brenda was quiet; writing her comment in napkins she delivered along with more of the squints had placed before all the trouble.

‘Free of charge, Sugar Cube’ and ‘Great idea calling them, Sugar Cane’ and smiley faces on the notes were written with her red lipstick.

I'll take away all your fears  
I'll take away all of your fears  
So you can let go all your fears

Breakfast eaten and crisis averted, the four men now walked around town with no specific goal other than shooting the breeze until it was time for lunch.

Wendell’s hand didn’t let go of Vincent’s the entire time. Both needed it. The Brit, to make sure that the other wouldn’t leave. The American, to let him know that he was smarter than the psychologist and wouldn’t let something as stupid as society dictate how their relationship should be like.

Zack was happy. Given the circumstances, he thought his friend would be worse.

“Your gut was right. What did I tell you?”

“I’m glad I listened to you.”

“You’re being condescending, aren’t you?”

“Most of my family taught me never to ignore how I feel. So, yes, I believe I am.”

Zack’s cheeky smile made Booth realize it was his fault for encouraging the man to let his real self out. He couldn’t find it in him to be sorry.

The group went to libraries (indulging the squints, and even Booth to a lesser extent. He had a book on forensics hidden inside a sports magazine); to a sports shop (indulging the archer and the baseballers while boring Zack out of his mind) and to the firing range (Vincent had to admit that Zack was a good teacher) before lunch.

It was comfort food for all of them.

Steak, mashed potatoes, green beans.

Yeah.

The good stuff.

A battle ensued. The Brit had to defend his territory from the invading forces of Wendell.

“Eat your own food.”

“But I’m hungry.”

“We got the same amount of food, Dell.”

The blond turned on his best puppy dog eyes until Vince relented and gave him a piece of his steak.

“Thanks.”

“You are a bottomless pit.”

“But you love me anyway.”

“Yes, I do.”

And you stay  
Stay with me when I break down

Soon it was 2:30 PM, prompting the march to Angela’s apartment.

(With a quick stop for Zack and Vincent to get their umbrellas, because one should never trust a weather man)

They were the first ones there, not accounting for the entomologist who had slept there. Brennan was the last to arrive, knowing that Angela wouldn’t punish her like she would punish Doctor Goodman and Director Cullen.

“Great! Now we can finally go. What took you so long?”

“I had to go back home for my umbrella.”

“You guys do know that the guy on TV said that it’s going to be sunny, right?”

Bones scoffed.

“Like that’s a real science.” – She helped by carrying one of the three oversized picnic baskets Angela had prepared for them. – “They’re no better than psychics.”

Zack tried to lift another, but it was too heavy for him. Instead of letting Booth help him with it, he united forces with Vincent to conquer the weight. They linked their arms.

“What? So I stress cook.”

“Do you stress cook stones?”

“Quiet. You two had to pick the heaviest just so you could complain.”

They opened it to find, besides the mountains of food, a hardcover copy of ‘The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe’ and one of ‘The Golden Compass’.

“I call Lewis.” – Zack was quicker than the Brit. At least I enjoy Pullman’s work as well. – “Can we go now? It’s really heavy.”

“Your arms are like noodles.”

“Why don’t you try, Bug Boy?”

He accepted the FBI agent’s challenge. Hodgins strode over as the pair put it down. He tried to lift it many times before giving up and mumbling an almost-apology.

Like a dream come saving I've  
Words shall fail here  
I'll just read the way you sound  
Till I know the meaning of love, and life

It vaguely reminded Angela of Manet’s Luncheon on the Grass with her boss and his lover in suits eating a couple of the sandwiches she’d prepared. But the similarities stopped there, both women were fully dressed in comfortable clothes.

The artist, her best friend, her lover and the boss men were still on the red and white plaid blanket while the other couples found themselves under the shade of nearby trees.

Each with their borrowed book, which they only got after eating some of the food Angela had cooked. Vincent and Wendell were side by side, turning the pages when both were done with them. Zack was sitting comfortably between Booth’s legs while reading to him.

Subway had nothing non Angela’s prosciutto on white bread. The blond munched down on his even after devouring a mountain of food. Vincent was full just from seeing him eating. The FBI agent and his squint shared one, with Booth reading out loud until his lover swallowed his bite.

And you keeping I'm understating  
What are your means that you're standin' behind  
Every words you say to make my day slowly dawnin'  
I want you to know  
You're the heart of my temple of thought

There were only a few white clouds, but that was all it took. It didn’t even give some warning droplets; it just started pouring on them. Brennan rolled her eyes as her friends ran for cover. She calmly opened her umbrella, watching as Zack and Vincent did the same. Four squints and a FBI agent gathered up the baskets’ contents, fit it all back and ran out of the park.

“Never trust a weather man.”

“I never do. Their so-called facts are guesses.”

“Guesses aren’t always bad, Bones.”- Booth smiled at the glaring anthropologist. – “Sometimes they crack cases.”

“Oh dear Lord. Can’t we at least listen to you two fight while drying up?”

Vincent’s complaining defused the bomb better than anyone would’ve expected.

“Hey, aren’t we forgetting something?” – They all looked at the blond. – “You know, Angela?”

“Oh!”

So when you're restless I will calm the ocean for you  
In your sorrow I will dry your tears  
When you need me I will be there, low beside you  
I'll take away all your fears  
I'll take away all of your fears  
So you can let go all your fears

After taking everything (and everyone) back to Angela’s, the squints returned to their respective homes. Wendell didn’t forget what had happened in the morning. A not-so-subtle need to make sure Vince was okay coursed through his arteries, slowly driving him to tackle the Brit onto their bed.

“Dell? What is it?”

“You wanted to be sure that I wouldn’t leave.” – Vince’s face reminded him of a rock band. Deep Purple. – “Yeah, I noticed.”

“I- uh…”

“Are you aware that I’m very hard to get rid off?”

“That doesn’t count as a fact.”

“Let’s make it one, then.”

Dreams have nothing on my reality I  
I'm the scent of your skin  
I know where I am endlessly into the sun  
Feel the life, deep within

Vincent dreamed of England.

The small, cold raindrops tickled his face. He traversed the streets of London with only a small umbrella to cover him and the blond man that constantly appeared in his dreams. Dream-Wendell was an identical copy of the man the squint was currently curled up against. Vince's subconscious couldn't find a way to make the man better than he already was. The pair ducked into a museum of sorts. Among the various exhibits there was a painting that captured their attention.

It was a renaissance piece.

A beautiful image of a knight in shining armor, a king and a dead traitor. The man had the knight's sword piercing his chest, while the knight looked back to the king, adoration clear in his eyes. Unlike any other painting, this one showed the king returning the gaze, with the same degree of affection.

Then everything melted away.

When he opened his eyes again, Vincent was underwater. Although he wasn't very sure how he was breathing, he didn't try to swim towards the surface. The Brit caught sight of a blue shining tail and swam towards it, but every time he got close, it would swim away. Upon finally finding the owner of the tail, he noticed that it was a merman.

They spent a long time looking at each other. Even with fish, sharks and even squids swimming between them. It was like the water surrounding each one had frozen and they couldn't move from there, no matter how hard they tried.

 Vince woke up during the night. His mind was fast in providing him with the myth that when you wake up during the night it's because you died in someone's dream. And, judging by the way Wendell's grip on him got tighter; it was easy to deduce what'd happened. Well, that or the squint was dreaming about baseball again. Without giving it too much thought, he just kissed his lover lightly.

When Wendell awoke he didn't know why he had. But, seeing the Brit's face so close to his was pretty incriminating evidence. He tangled his legs with Vince's, smiling in the dark. With forehead touching forehead, it didn't take long for them to fall back asleep.

You can let go all your fears

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Letter
> 
> One year ago today (15-07-2013) I sat down in front of my computer and wrote the introduction and first chapter for ‘The Pilot in the Series’. 365 days and 46 stories later, here I am.  
> I’d like to thank everyone who stuck with me from the beginning as well as the people who just discovered about my writing.  
> You people make my life better.  
> Thank you.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Oliver.


End file.
